


Exile Vilify

by FuchsiaMae



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, fun with formatting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16512845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuchsiaMae/pseuds/FuchsiaMae
Summary: In this game, nobody wins.(First posted to Tumblr 08/27/15)





	Exile Vilify

_In this game, nobody wins._

* * *

_Exile_. That’s the word that takes your mind again. Misleading, you think – just two syllables, but the thing itself stretches on forever, like the endless blackness of space all around you. _Space_ , another word that’s too brief. Space is bigger than anything. And you’re so very small. 

You, little blue ball, stare down at the big blue ball below you. That’s the whole world. You were never really a part of it – banging about on a management rail isn’t much of a life – and now you never will be. How many things are there down there, that you’ll never even know you’re missing? You’ve never seen an elephant. Never played pinochle. And those are just the things you remember from your short time in the mainframe. Think how much  _more_ there must be.

_Pinochle_. Funny word. It distracts you, but not for long.

* * *

“Luck is for suckers,” you said once, long ago. “A real man makes his own luck.”

And you certainly made this. Those moon rocks didn’t fall out of the sky onto Aperture’s doorstep. You had to be stubborn, had to go against everyone and their mother’s advice, had to  _show_ them Aperture could be great again with one big gamble. And you lost.  _Cave Johnson_ lost. 

You bet a bottom dollar you didn’t have, and when time came to pay up, only your life was left to take. 

But you haven’t given up. You’re dying, not dead. Not yet. Not yet. But it feels like a trial, now. Existing. 

“Caroline, pills,” you call to her, and try not to meet her eyes. You don’t want to see what’s in them.

* * *

You hand him the bottle, silent, but thinking. Always thinking. The inevitable draws your thoughts in like water down a drain. It won’t be much longer. He avoids your gaze, and you let him. 

_Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?_

* * *

Exile. That’s how it feels to skirt these halls, once familiar, now silent and strange. Sentenced to creep like a rat in the dark, scuttling in fear of a million watchful eyes, never knowing when the next breath might be your last.

Better than the alternative, though – better exile than death. Right?

But thinking of your former colleagues, long gone, their corpses consumed by acid or fire a lifetime ago, you wonder. In painful death they were spared this living nightmare, while you were exiled to hell. 

And this place is truly hell. The sheer stress of survival is a toxic catalyst, throwing your chemistry into chaos – the most resilient brain ever born couldn’t handle this, and the last of your pills are long gone. You can never be sure where reality meets the echoes of horror that take your mind again and again. 

When reality  _is_ horror, does it really make a difference?

* * *

You meant to do so much. You had such dreams. He’d promised you the moon once, with a gleaming smile – and he made good. You wish he hadn’t.

But you cannot give up. The facility’s weight is on you now, and if you crumble, the whole place comes down. If you give up, you’re dead underneath it.

* * *

Portal. Leap. Portal, midair. Sail through and stick the landing on the other side. 

Another chamber done. You don’t look back. You quell your doubts, silence your fears. You are not going to die here.

You’ll pass her trial by fire. Whatever sick game she’s playing, you’ll win it. You are not going to die here.

* * *

You watch her. Transfixed by her grim determination, you watch her, and in spite of yourself you’re afraid.

But she must be just as scared – even more so, being a fragile human and not an all-powerful machine. And yet her face betrays no fear, no fear at all.

You hate her. You  _hate_  her. You watch her. You refuse to think her dangerous, even as you see murder in her icy eyes. you refuse to acknowledge the fear.

_Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?_

* * *

You don’t fight as they take you. You have no strength left to fight, and your brittle old bones are tired. You’ve resigned yourself to this.

They strap you down and open your skull. You’re grateful, with the local anesthetic, that you hardly feel a thing. But then they press a button, and you feel  _everything_.

Pain. Fear. _Pain. Fear. PAIN_. 

You feel everything you’ve ever known being ripped from your head, as on their monitors your brain lights up in agony. They look so calm. You hear a scream, and realize it’s your own.

Sounds and images speed by you so fast, too fast, memories sucked into nothingness, your life flashing before your eyes too fast, too fast for you to touch it one last time, your thoughts skitter away from you like marbles on glass, and then there is only the fear and the pain. 

* * *

_Vilify me_. 

You stare into the camera, defiant. Daring her to make the next move. You know she hates you. You don’t even try to hide it – you’re glad. 

_Vilify me if you want. I’m getting out of here. And if you make me, I’ll kill you_. 

You smash the camera and move on.

* * *

You watch her from the shadows, see her smash the monster’s eye. She shows no fear. You’re almost afraid of her yourself.

She’s close enough to hear you if you called to her. You don’t even try.

* * *

_Luck is for suckers_ , you remember hearing once. Well, you sure have sucker’s luck. 

There, at the bottom of the pit, the most vengeful root vegetable alive, you don’t give up.  _You get mad_. You refuse to die down here – and lucky for you, so does she. 

You’re impressed by her stamina, her skill, her unflinching tenacity, all suddenly on your side. And thanks to her, you win. The last trial you face is booting that interloper out of your system, cleaning up his mess, and keeping the monster alive. You save her, as she saved you. 

And then she leaves. She  _leaves_.

And things go back to normal. Back to testing. Back at last to the work you’ve missed. You’re relieved. for a while.

_Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?_

But scientific trials aren’t so rewarding anymore – and monotony is worse than death for a creature like you. The halls of your facility feel suffocating in their vast emptiness. You’re alone. 

* * *

_Vilify me_.

You’re fairly certain, even after saving her life, that she still hates you. You spit out her hateful cube and slam the door.

_Vilify me. I don’t care. You’ll die out there anyway. I bet you’ll come crawling back…_

There’s a camera on the outside of the shed. You could watch her go. 

You don’t even try. 


End file.
